


Silent Scream

by voices_in_my_head



Series: Killing my Dreams [2]
Category: Supernatural, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 'cause they're both BAMF, Crowley and Hela are buddies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 07:02:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voices_in_my_head/pseuds/voices_in_my_head
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She snorts, “please don’t call the walking dead zombies. It makes it sound much more fun than it is, let me assure you.”"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Scream

 “I can’t help you,” Crowley says, drinking from his glass.

“You’re the king of Hell and you’re saying you can’t control the dead?” Moose asks and Crowley rolls his eyes.

“I control their souls, not their bodies. There’s a difference. Human souls are not ghosts. They’re… spirits. They’re literally made of nothing. They don’t have any power.”

“Look, if we don’t find something to stop this, the dead will rise and-“

“And the world will come to an end. Yes, I’ve heard that one before,” he says in response to Moose’s brother. The two of them are looking at him like he’s a bug which is alright, since that’s exactly what he feels about them.

“I said I didn’t control the dead’s bodies, I didn’t say I didn’t know someone who does.”

The Winchesters’ attention is immediately on him. “There have been people over the years making deals in order to get someone back,” he arches an eyebrow, “as I’m sure you’re aware. It’s not easy to put a soul back in a degrading body. At least for someone of this world.”

“What do you mean? You mean it’s a god, like Kali, that does it?”

“Kali is powerful in comparison to humans. In comparison to what I’m thinking… well, I wouldn’t bet on her to even scratch Hel.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” Dean says.

“I meant what I said,” Crowley answers, deciding not to explain the difference between Hell and Hel, sometimes known as Hela.

“That’s not important,” Sam tells his brother and the two have some conversation through a metal link, which Crowley has no desire to ever learn of. Those two have co-dependency problems he won’t teach even if across the ocean. “The important part is that you can help.”

“I can talk to someone that can fix this mess. But…”

“What do you want in return?”

Crowley smiles. “For making a call? Nothing. Now her… she doesn’t work for me, boys.”

“If she asks for our soul-“ Dean starts but Crowley quickly puts a hand up.

“She’s the queen of the dead; do you really think she wants another soul? From what I hear, Winchester, you might be special in this world, but you’re an ant in the others.”

“Didn’t want to be, anyway,” he mutters but Crowley decides to ignore him.

“Are we done, then?”

The boys seem to want to argue, maybe force him to “call” right now and even watch but like Hell (ah, Crowley always likes his puns) is he doing that.

“That’s it,” Sam says and drags his brother out.

Crowley rolls his eyes at their backs. One day, when he finally finds a demon with something more than smoke on his brain, he’s going to leave Earth and beg Hela for a room in her castle, because these humans are really, really starting to annoy him. He’s having difficulties remembering why he went against Lucifer in the first place. Oh right, besides wanting to destroy humankind, he also wanted to destroy every demon.

Everyone always wants someone dead.

He drinks the rest of his scotch and then gets up. He grabs a few items from a safe and starts an enchantment.

In no time he has Hela standing in the middle of his office. She looks like a queen, a very powerful and dangerous one. She holds herself high, and she’s not exactly a small woman, even without the heels that she says are the one reason she keeps traveling to Earth. She’s wearing a black dress that falls around her on the floor and her black hair is also loose. She looks like a goddess and for a second Crowley almost wants to bow.

But he controls himself, and instead offers her a drink.

“Since I assume you called me here to request something, I might as well enjoy your scotch.”

“Better than heels.”

“I would answer you have no idea what you’re talking about, but I doubt,” she sends a smirk which he sends back when he hands her the glass.

Hela takes a few sips. “So, why did you call me?”

“The Winchesters boys came across dead people.”

She arches an eyebrow, “isn’t that the family business?”

“I mean dead people that they didn’t kill and that weren’t ghost. They came across zombies.”

She snorts, “please don’t call the walking dead zombies. It makes it sound much more fun than it is, let me assure you.”

“Anyway, they came to ask me to send them back to Hell,” he rolls his eyes, “because of course if there are dead men walking the Earth they must have come from Hell.”

“Of course,” she says and smiles, one divided in mockery and real amusement.

“I told them I don’t deal with dead men; but with their souls.”

“You sent them to me?”

“Of course not, I told them I would speak with someone that had the power to deal with their… predicament.”

She walks around for a bit. “Every couple of years someone decides to raise back the dead. What’s dead should stay dead.” She rolls her eyes, “it is, unfortunately, a lost philosophy. I hope you asked for something in return.”

“No. But I told them you would.”

“There’s nothing I want from Sam and Dean Winchester.”

Crowley shakes his shoulders. “Maybe not, but I’m sure you won’t do it for the good of your heart.”

“Who said I would do it? I didn’t say I had put the dead back down. If they’ve managed to escape, who am I to force them back?”

Crowley arches an eyebrow. Truth is, he doesn’t care one way or another.

“The Winchesters have gained quite a reputation. I’m sure they’ll take care of this. Besides, not every dead body wants brains. I would like to know from where that story first came from. Most just want to be left alone.”

Crowley pours some more scotch into their glasses.

“Isn’t that what we all want?”

“What I want…” She takes a sip. “What I want is to be like some humans; be able to believe that Death is nothing more than a black hole where you can rest forever.” Her voice has a dreaming sound, until she finishes the drink. “But hope is for children and I have too much work for it. Honestly, if you find someone that wants to raise the dead, give them my permission. Odin knows I need a vacation.”

 


End file.
